Page 72 of Second Quarter Comeback
The place is called Churro Bliss, and it’s everything the name promises and then some. The air is thick with the smell of cinnamon and sugar, and the display case near the counter shows off a rainbow of ice cream flavors alongside golden churros twisted into intricate shapes. The tables are packed with couples sharing desserts, kids smearing melted ice cream across their faces, and groups of friends snapping pictures of over-the-top sundaes. It’s buzzing with energy, and the vibe is nothing short of joyful.
The hostess leads us to a small table by the window,where fairy lights strung across the ceiling cast a warm glow. Camille slides into her seat, her eyes already darting toward the menu in the center of the table.
“Have you been here before?” she asks, her voice curious as she picks up the menu.
“No, but Darnell brings his wife and kids here all the time. He swears by it,” I say, leaning back in my chair.
Her lips twitch into a grin. “He’s your running back, right?”
“One of them,” I reply, smirking. “But yeah. According to him, this place is a game-changer. He even claims their churro ice cream sandwiches fix bad moods.”
Her eyebrow arches, playful suspicion lighting her features. “Oh, so this is your strategy? Bribe me with churros and ice cream so I forget how annoying you can be?”
“Exactly,” I deadpan. “You caught me. My entire plan hinges on the power of fried dough and frozen dairy.”
She laughs, shaking her head as her eyes scan the menu. “Okay, but if this doesn’t live up to the hype, I’m holding it against you forever.”
“No pressure,” I say, picking up my own menu. “But you’ll love it. Trust me.”
We spend a few minutes debating options, and by debating, I mean her listing every single dessert she wants while I nod and agree to all of it. Finally, wedecide on The Churro Overload Special—a massive platter with churro ice cream sandwiches, churro bites drizzled in caramel, and churro bowls filled with different ice cream flavors. It’s excessive and ridiculous, and I already know she’s going to love every second of it.
When the dessert arrives, Camille gasps, her eyes lighting up like it’s Christmas morning. “This is insane.”
“Insanely good,” I say, grabbing a churro bite and popping it into my mouth.
She picks up one of the churro ice cream sandwiches, the warm churro spirals dusted with cinnamon sugar practically melting into the vanilla ice cream. Her first bite is almost comical—her eyes close, and she lets out a small, muffled moan that makes the table of teenagers behind us burst into giggles.
“Oh my God,” she says after swallowing. “This is life-changing.”
“Told you,” I say, reaching for a caramel-drizzled churro bite.
She narrows her eyes at me, holding her ice cream sandwich protectively. “If you try to take a bite of this, I will stab you with a churro stick.”
I burst out laughing. “Noted. But there’s an entire platter here, Camille. You don’t have to go fullLord of the Ringsover dessert.”
“Are you calling me Gollum?” she asks, mock-offended.
“If the churro fits,” I tease, earning myself a playful kick under the table.
For a while, we dive into the platter, swapping bites and banter. I manage to sneak a bite of her churro sandwich when she’s distracted by a group of kids singing happy birthday at the next table, and she retaliates by smearing a dollop of ice cream on my nose.
“Not cool,” I say, wiping it off with a napkin.
“Revenge,” she replies sweetly, batting her lashes.
By the time we finish, the platter is nearly empty, and we’re both leaning back in our chairs, completely stuffed. Tomorrow I’m going to pay for this indulging, but it’s worth every second. She looks at me, her cheeks still pink from laughing, and I can’t help but think that this might be my favorite version of her—unfiltered, happy, and full of churros.
“This was perfect,” she says softly, her hand resting on the edge of the table.
I reach across, lacing my fingers through hers. “You’re perfect.”
Chapter Forty-Two
Camille: You drop me at home with a quick peck on the lips. What’s going on, Crawford?
Killion: I’m trying to behave.
Camille: Really? After last week, now you’re trying to behave.
